A Long Few Weeks

If anyone has noticed, or has heard my incessant complaining, this month has been chock-full of Jewish holidays. While I love the holidays for themselves, having days upon days of family meals, missing classes, and cooking nonstop have definitely taken their toll on me. So when I tried to write an eloquent piece about the culture of the holidays and the overwhelming sense of joy and fulfillment, all I could think of is how I spent way too long in way too close quarters with my *ahem* contrary brother-in-law, the piles of leftovers that need sorting, and the desperate game of class catch up I’ll be playing this week.

Which sucked.

Because I want to feel spiritual, not stressed.

But I reminded myself that the worst thing I could do right now is feel guilty about not feeling a certain way about how things went. It’s okay that I didn’t love the holidays this year and it’s okay that I come to appreciate my religion, my culture, and my family in the everyday and not so much in the big occasions; that’s just the type of person I am.

However, my American Folklore class required me to write an essay on a subculture I was personally invested in and through a few hours of hair-pulling brainstorming, I was able to pick apart the stresses of holiday season and find things that I truly appreciate about my family this time of year. I won’t bore you all with six pages of abstract references and academic whining about my cooking schedule, but I will share my closing paragraph:

I use the Yiddish phrases and the Hebrew ones. I try to make sense of the little Hungarian that is still thrown around sometimes. I listen to Romanian music. I eat Transylvanian food. I read Walt Whitman. What are we but a conglomeration of parts? A pastiche of a thousand before us and a thousand around us? Every movement and every word is the child of a million parents. Our folklore both enables and limits, but doesn’t everything? “If everyone’s pekel was put out on a table, we would always take back our own.”

It’s something I’ve come to appreciate over the years – the way my culture is both expansive and highly personal is something that extends far beyond the holidays. And I think in the moments where I feel overwhelmed it’s important for me to step back and stop focusing on the little details and start seeing what is actually happening. To see that “conglomeration of parts” and not just the parts.

I’m not exactly sure what I’m trying to say here, but after all, it’s been a long few weeks and I’ve a lot to do.

Merav